


Storybrooke Mafia

by prissygirl



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, No Curse, Rumbelle Christmas in July 2016, Storybrooke, mafia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-23
Updated: 2016-07-23
Packaged: 2018-07-26 07:53:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7566163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prissygirl/pseuds/prissygirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Belle French begins to suspect Mr. Gold of being in the mafia, she decides to investigate. The truth turns out to be far from what she expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Belle French stared up in terror at the salmon pink Victorian before her.

The house itself wasn’t frightening – after all, who could be scared of a _pink_ house? Its occupant, however – rumored to be the nastiest person to ever step foot in Storybrooke – was another story entirely.

Looking down at the flyers she held[,](http://onceuponatime.wikia.com/wiki/Convent_of_the_Sisters_of_Saint_Meissa) Belle closed her eyes briefly and took a deep breath. It was the last stop on her list for the day, and the moment it was done she would finally be able to go home and relax. She had spent all day visiting various businesses and knocking on the doors of homes all around town, and both her sore voice and aching feet longed for the day to be done.

Yet as she opened her eyes to stare at the home of the most feared man in Storybrooke, she found that she would almost rather do the entire day over again if it meant being able to skip this stop.

It wasn’t that she was afraid of rejection – no, she had been turned down plenty of times that day as she had tried to sell chocolates to raise funds for the local convent. Though the nuns already sold candles each year during the Miner’s Day celebration, finances had become tight enough that the Mother Superior had enlisted a group of townspeople to help raise some emergency funds.

Belle didn’t know the Mother Superior very well, but she had recently become close with one of the younger nuns named Astrid, who regularly volunteered at the library. Her friend had confessed to her that the convent was in dire need of repair. But despite their best efforts to make cuts where they could, there never seemed to be enough to meet even their most basic bills.

This left Belle – one foot on Gold’s first step, the other still on the walkway – in a bit of a pickle. Gold was easily the wealthiest man in town and would, in theory, have the most expendable income. Belle reminded herself that it would be a shame to avoid someone who could actually afford to spend quite a bit of money on overpriced chocolates.

If Ashley Boyd was willing to buy a box of chocolates on a waitress’s salary, surely Gold could afford half a dozen, Belle told herself.

The thought bolstered her for a few moments, enough to get her up the nine steps onto his porch, before her courage failed her again. After a full two minutes of staring at his door – during which she wondered yet again why she had let Astrid talk her into helping – she reached for the doorbell.

Her finger rested on the button for a full five seconds before she took a deep breath and pushed.

The door opened even before the bell stopped ringing. Before her stood Mr. Gold, smirking knowingly.

“I was wondering if you were ever going to get up the bravery.”

Belle stood transfixed, her eyes zeroed in on his cooked teeth and gleaming gold tooth. By the time she realized she was staring, it was too late. His smile only grew – if one could call the shark-like expression he wore a smile that is.

“So,” he said, “come to stare at the beast have you?”

“N – no,” Belle stammered. “I’m going door-to-door.”

The blank stare he gave her had her hurriedly adding, “For a fundraiser.”

He looked pointedly at the flyers that she held under one arm. “And what horribly overpriced good are you trying to swindle me into buying today?”

“Chocolate?” Belle squeaked. She held up a flyer for him to see. “It’s for a good cause.”

His eyes darted to the paper and he scowled. “Let me guess. It’s for the nuns.”

Belle nodded. “The convent is in need of – “

She was cut off as he slammed the door in her face abruptly.

“ –repairs.”

Belle just stood there, her mouth hanging open. She had known Mr. Gold was rude, but she hadn’t expected to be shut down so quickly.

As the seconds ticked by, it became clear to Belle that Gold considered that to be the end of the conversation. She turned from the door and walked down the steps slowly, wondering if there was something she could have done differently.

She replayed the conversation in her mind and came to two swift conclusions.

Conclusion 1: Belle had done nothing wrong.

Conclusion 2: Gold was a dick.

Part of her itched to turn back around and pound on his door until he heard her out. As she considered the idea, a black Cadillac convertible pulled into Gold’s driveway. Inside the car were two men: one tall and imposing with a bald head and another much shorter, wearing the most absurd velvet hat that Belle had ever seen. 

They got out of the car, each pulling a large black case from the backseat and looking every inch like characters who had just stepped out of a mobster storybook.

Belle didn’t give them a chance to get close to her. She ran.

~~\----~~

It was the next morning at the library, as she was relating her experience to Astrid, that Belle started to get a sneaking suspicion in the pit of her stomach.

“Astrid, you don’t think there’s any chance that Gold could be involved in anything illegal, do you?”

Her friend paused in the middle of reshelving some books in the children’s section to look at her.

“Well, you know how Mother Superior doesn’t like us to gossip,” Astrid said nervously, chewing at her lower lip. “But he’s the main reason we had to have the fundraiser in the first place. He keeps upping the rent and Mother Superior has no choice but to pay it or risk him evicting all of us.”

Belle made a noncommittal noise and returned a book to the shelf in front of her. Had her friend accused anyone else of such a thing, she would have had a hard time believing it. But now that she had met the man, the accusation was much easier to accept.

“Do you know anything about those men I saw?” she asked. “They were clearly at Gold’s for a very specific reason.”

Astrid shrugged. “Nobody knows them very well. I think they live over in Camelot, but they seem to come to town a couple times a month.”

Belle nodded thoughtfully. Camelot was about a twenty minute drive south. It wasn’t a huge city, but it was much bigger than Storybrooke and was known for having a higher crime rate, especially when it came to organized crime. If Gold’s friends were making regular visits from such an area, it only seemed further proof to Belle that the pawnbroker was up to something.

She knew her idea would sound ridiculous the moment she said it out loud. As shady as Gold was, their sleepy little community was hardly a prime location for any kind of illegal enterprise. But perhaps that was the point – with the relative lack of crime in Storybrooke, it would be easy to use the town as a cover for his underhanded dealings.

“I think the man with the eccentric hats is named Jefferson,” Astrid said, interrupting Belle’s train of thought. “I’m not sure if that’s his first name or last name though. And I’ve only ever heard of the tall man referred to as Dove.”

“Seems fitting names considering who they’re friends with,” Belle said dryly.

In the two years she had lived in Storybrooke, she had never met anyone who knew Gold’s first name. Precious little was known about him in general, a feat even more incredulous considering the small town’s penchant for gossip.

All anyone really seemed to know was that the man was sinfully wealthy, despite Belle never having seen anyone ever leave his pawnshop with a purchase.

On the whole, the evidence seemed rather obvious when she thought about it.

“Astrid,” she said calmly, wondering how her skittish friend would react to what she was about to say, “I think Gold’s in the mafia.”

~~\----~~

Astrid hadn’t taken the news very well, and Belle found herself telling the story of how she had needed to prevent the nun from hyperventilating for the next ten minutes to the rest of her friends that following Friday at the Rabbit Hole.

The bar was rather dingy and dirty, but the drinks were at least fairly cheap. There weren’t a lot of other options in town – just Granny’s Diner and an Italian restaurant called _Bella Notte_ – so the Rabbit Hole had become their regular haunt whenever they had a girls’ night out.

The other three girls listened to her suspicions about Mr. Gold politely, though she could tell they were skeptical.

“I agree that Gold’s pretty shady, but what makes you think there’s any funny business going down in Storybrooke?” Ruby asked thoughtfully, taking a sip of her martini.

Belle gave her a grateful smile, thankful that at least one of her friends was taking her seriously. Ariel and Mary Margaret had already tuned them out, seeming much more interested in chatting about their new boyfriends than Belle’s theory.

“I’ll admit it was a bit outlandish at first,” Belle said sheepishly. “But since I mentioned it to Astrid, I did some more poking around. Over the past year, there’s been a number of unsolved robberies around the state, ranging from banks to automobile factories. Each time the trail has led back to Camelot, but then it just grows cold.”

Ruby’s expression was unreadable. “You think they’re hiding in Storybrooke?”

“It would make sense. Unlike Camelot, we’re a port town. The cops are clearly watching the highways and airports, but there’s less people watching the coast.”

“Huh,” Ruby said. “You’ve clearly put a lot of thought into this. I mean, I still think you’re making a unicorn out of a horse here, but I suppose you’ll find out quick enough if he’s up to something.” She threw back the rest of her drink and poked a thumb in the direction of the bar as she stood up. “Just don’t go getting yourself into trouble poking into things, okay?”

Belle gave her an innocent smile. “Of course not.”


	2. Chapter 2

The next day, Belle put her plan in action. She needed to speak to Gold again and see if she could get any information from him.

This meant, of course, that she would have to enter the beast’s lair.

The bells over the door twinkled happily as she entered the building, the noise seeming out of place to her in such a dreary environment.

There behind the counter stood Gold. Reading glasses were perched on the end of his nose and he looked up from the papers he had been reading when she walked in. He regarded her warily, taking off the glasses and setting them on the counter.

Gold didn’t greet her, but from the expression on his face, he clearly recognized her – brief though their last interaction had been. In fact, he actually looked slightly worried, his eyes growing wide when he saw the flyers under her arm.

As she grew closer, he quickly affected a neutral expression, but it was too late. Belle had seen his mask slip, if only just for a moment, and she was no longer afraid of him.

Or, at least, not too much.

Over the last couple days, Belle’s fright of Gold had been replaced with anger, both at Gold’s treatment of her that day and at herself for letting him get away with it. That, combined with her overwhelming curiosity about the man, had been much stronger than any fear she had felt before.

Besides, she had always loved a good challenge. Gold was a mystery to be uncovered, and she wasn’t about to back away now.

“You must really like disappointment, dearie,” he said in lieu of a greeting, gesturing at her flyers, “to be trying again so soon.”

Belle gave him a polite smile as she walked forward. “I’ve always believed that if something is worth fighting for, you don’t give up. And since you didn’t give me the chance to finish the other day, you could at least do me the decency of hearing me out before you say no _today_.”

He seemed to weigh her words in his mind, as if taking her serious for the first time.

“I’m not an easy man to convince, _Miss French_.”

If he thought showing that he knew her name would frighten her, he was wrong.

“Don't you see,” she replied, her laugh forced, “that's exactly why I have to stay." 

In the back of her mind, a tiny voice reminded her that antagonizing the Don of Storybrooke probably wasn’t the best of ideas.

However, Belle’s greatest weakness had always been her quick temper, and as she had already been stewing over their last interaction for several days, she found it very easy to push all thoughts warning her aside.

She set the flyers on the counter between them and began her usual pitch. Less than two sentences in, he stopped her.

“As I indicated last time, I am uninterested in purchasing anything at this time.”

“Really?” Belle asked skeptically. “Because it’s not like you don’t have the money. It wouldn’t hurt you to help those less fortunate than yourself for once.”

He stiffened. “My affairs are none of your business.”

“Well, if you kept your property in better condition, I wouldn’t be here in the first place,” Belle fired back.

His eyes narrowed. “It’s not my fault that the nuns are incapable of keeping up simple repairs. I’ve been over this with Mother Superior a dozen times already – “

“Oh, sure. Blame the nuns!” Belle shot back, her voice rising both in sound and pitch. “You realize how ridiculous that sounds, right?”

“I – uh.” Gold seemed to stumble over his words and Belle got the distinct impression that he wasn’t used to being yelled at.

Of course, if one was the leader of a crime syndicate, one probably didn’t get shouted at very often, Belle mused.

“Look, it’s just a small donation,” Belle wheedled, trying a new approach. While getting Gold to donate wasn’t actually her main goal in coming there that day, she wanted to keep him off balance.

The more unsure of himself he was, the greater the chance that he might inadvertently say something useful.

As Gold opened his mouth to speak again, Belle really laid it on thick.

“Don’t you _like_ chocolate?” she asked, letting her lower lip stick out in a bit of a pout that her ex-boyfriend Gaston had once said was cute.

“Well, yes but…”

“I’d really be so grateful if you bought something,” Belle added, fluttering her eyelashes at him.

Apparently that was the wrong move, however. Gold’s eyes narrowed and his nervousness disappeared.

“Flirting with me will not help you make your sale, dearie.” He turned back to his ledgers, clearly dismissing her once again. “Come back if you have something useful to sell, like whiskey or something.”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s a fundraiser for nuns. Despite the whole ‘water to wine’ thing, I don’t think they’re big on getting people drunk.”

Gold made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a sniff to Belle. “Pity. I think a few drinks would go a long way to improve Mother Superior’s personality.”

Though Belle privately agreed – the woman made even the mayor look laidback – she was hardly going to admit that to Gold of all people.

She wracked her brain for something more to say to prolong her time there. The seconds were ticking by and she was beginning to feel uncomfortable.

Unfortunately, the only thing she could think to say was rather direct. Not that Belle had ever been very good at subtlety, something she seemed to be proving yet again.

At least it would get a reaction out of him one way or the other, Belle thought grimly, gathering her courage before she could chicken out.

“I know you’re up to something,” she said, the words tumbling out of her mouth in a rush.

Gold looked up from his books with a smile. He leaned towards her, a challenging look in his eye.

“Prove it.”

~~\----~~

And so, Belle set out to do exactly that.

It was easy enough to keep watch on the pawnshop from the library. Over the next two weeks, Belle continually snuck glances out the window that faced the shop’s front door.

Gold seemed to be a creature of habit, but once or twice a week he would close the shop up early at night. On those occasions, Belle would race to lock up the library and follow him on bicycle, being careful to stay out of his sight.

Each time he only ever seemed to go home, but she was certain that one of these days, she would catch him doing….well, _something_. 

It was just another regular Wednesday around 4:00 when she saw Gold lock up his shop early again.

Belle jumped at the irregularity, practically pushing poor Archie Hopper out the door with a promise to help him find his book on cognitive psychology the next day.

She waited until the Cadillac was a block away before hopping on her bicycle and following. Between how little traffic there was in town and how well Gold’s Cadillac stood out, she had no trouble keeping up with the car.

Less than five minutes later, the car began to slow and Belle saw with dismay that Gold was once again turning into his own driveway.

Pulling the bike to a stop across the street, she slipped off and pulled it behind a large rosebush for cover. She watched as Gold walked up the stairs and into the house. Glancing at her watch, she told herself she would wait ten minutes, on the off chance that he was just stopping home for something before heading back out.

But if at the end of that time he hadn’t come out, Belle promised herself she would pedal home and seriously rethink her life choices.

Eight minutes and thirty-six seconds later, the front door to Gold’s house opened. Belle barely stopped herself from letting out a triumphant shout and stayed where she was crouched behind the bush.

She watched him get into his car, carrying a suspiciously heavy looking black case with him. It looked similar to the cases his associates had been transporting the other week, and Belle felt herself grow hopeful that she was finally on to something. 

She followed the Cadillac as it drove out near the edge of town by the fishing docks. Gold parked near an old warehouse, one Belle knew was no longer used by the fisherman, and walked inside with his case.

Leaving her bike hidden behind some shipping crates, Belle made her way quietly towards the building Gold had disappeared into. There were still a few fishermen working out on the boats and she didn’t want to have to explain what she was doing there.

At least, not until she had finally caught Gold doing something illegal and had the proof of it on her phone for the authorities.

With that thought in mind, Belle sent a quick text with her location and what was happening to Ruby, who was still the only other person who had seemed to believe her story at all. While she wasn’t planning on sticking around long enough to get caught, it was probably a good idea if at least one other person knew where she was and would be able to inform the police if something went wrong.

Belle sent the message and quickly checked to make sure her phone was on silent. The last thing she needed was to have Ruby or anyone else call her back at an inopportune moment.

On a whim, Belle texted Astrid as well. It couldn’t hurt, Belle told herself, to make sure more than one person knew where she was right now.

She tucked her phone away and tried to figure out her next step. The warehouse didn’t have any windows low enough for her to peek into, but there was a side door that led into the building. Belle crept along the wall and cracked the door open, listening for anyone who might be just inside. Hearing nothing, she opened the door just wide enough to squeeze in.

Inside, the warehouse was dark and musty, the only light coming from a few windows set higher into the wall. It smelled of something rather unpleasant – most likely of the rotted fish variety, Belle suspected – and she almost plugged her nose before thinking better of it.

She’d need her hands free, she reminded herself. There was no telling what she could stumble into.

The door she had come into had been further back in the building while Gold had entered the front. As she made her way further into the warehouse, her eyes slowly adjusting to the lack of light, she had to be careful not to knock down any of the empty crates around her.

She stumbled into one and quickly put out her arms to keep it from falling over.

However, the crate remained steady. To Belle’s surprise, she found it was heavy – not empty as she had suspected.

As Belle took a closer look around, she realized that there were many crates around, and they were all full.

For an abandoned warehouse, there seemed to be an awful lot there.

One crate’s top was open and Belle leaned over it, using the light from her phone to get a better look.

Shiny, metal car parts lay nestled inside the crate. _Stolen_ metal car parts, she realized.

“Holy crap,” Belle whispered. “The mafia really is in Storybrooke.”

A noise came from close behind her and Belle felt her heart sink to the ground.

She turned, already knowing what she’d see.

Mr. Gold stood there, holding his case in one hand. His body blocked the small bit of light coming in through the nearest window, making the room seem even darker and more ominous.

Belle gulped.  

“Well, well, what do we have here?”

His voice was low and sent shivers crawling up her spine. The look on his face told her that he knew exactly what she was doing here. Suddenly, her plan of following him seemed really stupid.

“I was just, uh, looking to buy some fresh fish?” Belle replied weakly, wincing as her voice squeaked at the end of the sentence.

“Fresh fish?” he repeated doubtfully.

“Yes, but looks like they’re fresh out…of fish, that is,” Belle said, shrugging her shoulders. “Guess I’ll just be, uh, going then.”

He held up a hand. “Not so fast, Miss French. I’m afraid I’m going to have to call this in.”

Before she realized what she was doing, she took several steps towards him, waving her hands. “No, no, don’t do that – I swear I won’t tell anyone.” She gave him what she thought was her most winsome smile. “I promise I’ll keep your secret.”

He had already dialed the number, cell phone up by his ear. She could tell he was clearly enjoying this, and a sudden urge to slap him rose up in her.

“Hello, this is Mr. Gold. I think we may have a situation here.”

Belle closed her eyes, trying to calm her breathing and think of a way to talk Gold out of turning her over to his people.

“I’m here with Miss French and – “

There was a clicking noise right behind Belle. She opened her eyes to see Gold staring over her shoulder in fear. She turned around slowly toward the noise, her heart beating in her chest wildly.

If something could scare Gold of all people…

The silver barrel of a revolver was pointed straight at them.

“Drop the phone,” said Mother Superior. “The case too.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Belle saw Gold scowl. He slowly bent down, placing both case and phone on the floor.

“Kick the phone over to me,” she said.

He did. She kept the gun leveled at him as she crushed the phone underneath her heeled boot.

Belle started forward. “I’m so glad to see you. He was – “

The other woman moved the gun towards her. “I didn’t say you could move.”

“But – it’s me! Belle French? I’ve been selling chocolate for you – “

Mother Superior clicked the safety off. “I know who you are, Belle. What I _want_ to know is what the two of you are doing here?”

“Apparently Miss French was looking for some fish.”

Belle shot him a glare before speaking again. “I was following Gold to find out what he was up to. Then I found the stolen goods and – “

She trailed off, the situation finally snapping into place in her mind. “These are your crates, aren’t they?” Belle asked, already knowing the answer with sickening certainty.

The other woman smiled. “Glad you finally figured it out. We were wondering if you would.”

“We?!” Belle gasped. “Christ, is _everybody_ in this town in the mafia?”

The nun just gave her a flat look. “You really have no idea, do you?” She shook her head in amusement. “Not that it really matters at this point. But that reminds me, I’ll need your phone as well. Can’t have you texting anyone _else_ now, can we?”

Belle’s phone met the same fate as Gold’s, but it was Mother Superior’s implication that bothered Belle the most. The message had, unfortunately, been very clear.

Astrid had ratted her out.

Before Belle could ask, however, Mother Superior’s phone rang. She gestured with the gun for them to sit on some nearby crates, which Belle and Gold scrambled towards hurriedly.

“Hey, it’s Blue. Yes, they’re both here,” she said, still keeping her gun pointed at them. “How do you want me to handle this?”

Belle turned towards the man sitting next to her. “I don’t understand. Are there two rival groups in Storybrooke right now? You two clearly aren’t working together.”

Gold looked at her in exasperation. “I’m not in the mob!”

“Don’t play dumb with me, Mr. Gold. There’s no point now.” A thought came to her then and she felt like an idiot. “If you’re not a part of this operation, then why are you even here?”

Gold grimaced. “I knew you had been following me recently and I decided to play along. Ironically, this seemed to be a good place to lure you to.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “There was never anyone on the other end of the phone – I was just trying to teach you a lesson.”

“You were tricking me?” Belle felt herself grow angry. “What a horrible thing to do!”

He gave her an incredulous look and poked a finger towards her. “That’s rich coming from you. You’ve been following me for _days_!”

Belle leaned closer, her eyes meeting his boldly. “That’s because _you_ are up to something.”

“Me? You’re the one constantly putting your nose in my affairs – ”

“For heaven’s sake, would the two of you keep it down?” Mother Superior – or Blue as it now seemed her name was – yelled from where she stood several feet away. “I can’t concentrate over how loudly the two of you are flirting.”

“We are not – “

“As if I would ever – “

Blue waved the gun at them menacingly and both Belle and Gold bit their tongues.

For the next few minutes, neither spoke nor met each other’s gaze, preferring to stay quiet rather than annoy the nun further. Whether they were more afraid of her gun or her insinuations, Belle didn’t know.

Soon enough though, Blue ended her call and came back towards them. For a brief moment, Belle considered rushing her and trying to wrestle the gun away from her. There were two of them against one of her; surely they could overpower her.

Belle’s thoughts must have shown on her face though because the other woman chuckled. “I know that look, honey. Don’t try anything brave.”

Silently cursing herself for being so transparent, she followed meekly as they were led towards the back of the warehouse.

“Get in,” Blue said, motioning them inside a walk-in freezer that was, unfortunately, still running.

They walked in, and Belle felt the cold seep into her skin right away.

“You can’t be serious,” Gold said. “We’ll freeze to death in here.”

The malicious grin on the other woman’s face left little doubt to her reasons for putting them there.

“That is the general idea,” Blue said.

And without another word, she slammed the door closed, leaving them in the dark.


	3. Chapter 3

“I still can’t believe you thought I was in the mafia.”

It was ten minutes later, and they’d dumped out several boxes of frozen lasagna in order to flatten the cardboard for something to sit on. One lone lightbulb flickered above them, throwing off a dull light in the otherwise dark freezer.

Belle gestured around the room. “Well, it’s not as if such a thing was impossible, you know.”

“But me?”

She gave him a dry look. “Oh, come on. Even you have to admit that you’re a bit…”

His eyes narrowed. “A bit _what_ , Miss French?”

“Frankly, you’re a bit shady.” Belle held up her right hand and start ticking off fingers as she continued. “You have considerable wealth, yet your shop clearly isn’t making you a profit. You call yourself ‘Mr. Gold” like some Bond villain who doesn’t have a first name. And you and your associates walk around lugging gun cases – “

He held up a hand to cut her off, but it was more his icy glare that made her pause.

“Just because I don’t flaunt my business or personal life in public like the rest of this town does not mean I have anything to hide. Furthermore, I’d like to point out that appearances – as we’ve learned rather dramatically tonight – can be rather deceiving.”

Belle wouldn’t argue that fact, but neither had she missed noticing that he hadn’t actually answered any of her questions. Not feeling overly kind at the moment – she figured it was the side effect of slowly freezing to death – she flat out told him so and returned the glare he sent her way after.

“Alright then, which accusation would you like me to address first?” he asked snidely.

She held her hands open. “I’m feeling generous,” she said, flashing him a large smile. “Start wherever you wish.”

Gold snorted. “Oh yes, very generous.” He seemed to think about it a moment before speaking again. “I think I’ll begin with your observation of my shop’s success – yes, I can see how that would look suspicious.” His eyes took on a particularly malicious glee and Belle could tell he was enjoying getting the chance to tell her off. “Unless of course, one remembers the fact that I own more than _half_ of the rental properties in this town. I don’t need the shop to be a success – it’s more of a hobby than anything.”

“Then you can see how it could easily be mistaken as a front for any kind of shadier business you might want to keep hidden.”

She saw him open his mouth to argue, but he seemed to think better of it and closed it again.

Belle smiled. “Point one to me,” she thought smugly.

Gold cleared his throat. “As for the second point you made, I don’t see how my first name – or rather, people’s lack of knowledge of it – makes me a criminal.”

“It’s just…I don’t know, _weird_.”

“I seriously doubt I’m the first individual to dislike the name they were given at birth.”

“Then why not change it?”

He shrugged. “Hardly worth the effort. Especially when everyone else,” he shot her a significant look, “seems perfectly willing to use my last name.”

“Oh, fine,” she said, letting out a huff of air that she could see condense in front of her, “but that still leaves the matter of those friends of yours.”

Two twin spots of red appeared on Gold’s cheeks and he mumbled something she couldn’t hear.

She leaned towards him. “What’d you say?”

“It’s uh, it’s nothing really. We just get together a couple times a month and play.”

Belle scrunched up her face. “Like…poker?”

It was a moment before he answered and Belle could see the way he was gritting his teeth.

“No,” he said, sounding as if he was in pain. “Instruments.”

It took a moment for his answer to register in her mind.

“Wait, a sec. You’re in a band?!” Her mind raced and the black cases she had seen all three men carry finally made sense. “Those were instrument cases!”

He nodded. “Are you satisfied now?”

“But – “ Belle found herself still having trouble processing the idea of Gold and his two tough-looking associates doing something as laidback as playing music together. “That tall guy looks straight out of _The Godfather_!”

Gold let out a bark of laughter. “Douglas? He’s a preschool teacher, for heaven’s sake.”

“A preschool teacher?” Belle repeated back slowly.

He nodded, the expression on his face showing her how much he was enjoying the look of disbelief on hers. “And Jefferson Milliner is a freelance writer for one of those online gaming websites. I usually zone out when he and Doug start talking about video games though.”

“Right,” Belle said. She felt rather light-headed, though she supposed that could be from the lack of oxygen in the freezer.

Gold is loving every moment of this, Belle thought with a twinge of annoyance. She tried to avoid looking at him, but he seemed to be perfectly happy to keep chatting away without any prompting from her.

“We’re a bluegrass band mainly, but I have done polka in the past. I play the accordion, Doug is fiddle, and Jefferson plays the harmonica and banjo.”  

Even after everything that had happened that day, Belle still found Gold’s words hard to believe.

Then again, she was trapped in a freezer after discovering the secret hideout of a mafia nun – surely Gold being in a band was easier news to swallow.

She shifted on top of the pile of cardboard, glad they had something between them and the cold floor. Though she was definitely still freezing, she knew their situation could be worse. They were lucky that the freezer didn’t seem to be running at full strength – considering the building had been abandoned before Blue and her friends moved in, it was a “miracle” that the freezer was even working at all.

Personally, Belle was more than happy that the cooling system had seen better days.

“You know,” Gold said after a few minutes had passed in silence. “I seem to be the only one sharing anything around here.” He gave her a contemplative look. “Any deep, dark secrets you have lurking behind those guileless blue eyes of yours?”

Belle spread her hands out wide. “Nope, my life’s an open book. Pun intended, of course.”

At his skeptical look, she continued, “No really, there’s not much to tell. Following you around is the most exciting thing I’ve done in a long time.” She paused as a thought came to her. “I mean, there is one thing. It’s not a secret really, but I always hoped to save up enough money to travel the world someday. Spend my life having amazing adventures.”

Gold shifted closer. “You don’t plan to marry then?”

She shrugged. “If it was the right person, I might. Someone complex and layered, who I could spend a lifetime getting to know.” She smiled softly, more to herself than her companion. “I’ve always thought of love as…a mystery to be uncovered.”

He snorted. “Sounds like a bumper sticker.”

Unaware of the outraged expression on Belle’s face, he added absentmindedly, “Or one of those mugs at the novelty shops.”

She crossed her arms. “And I’m sure you’d compare it to some tropical disease, right?”

“Well, it’s hardly Ebola, but I’m sure it’s managed to take a few victims over the years.”

He said it in such a nonchalant way that Belle almost missed the flash of something in his eyes – something painful, as if he was remembering something and trying to push it away.

She felt her attitude towards him soften slightly. She knew that look of loss. She had seen it in her own eyes in the years following her mother’s death.

Suddenly it felt wrong to pry – wrong in a way that teasing him about his business and friends hadn’t. There also seemed to be a memory tugging at the back of her mind, involving some story about Gold having an ex-wife or something years ago.

All of the sudden, Belle felt more than content to let Gold keep that particular secret, especially if it seemed to cause him this much pain.

“Actually,” she said, trying to change the topic, “if I’m honest, I’m much more interested in knowing your first name. You very cleverly deflected that one.”

He shrugged.

“Oh come on. It can’t be worse than ‘Doug Dove’.”

His mouth twisted into a wry smile. “I’ll make you a deal. We get out of here alive and I’ll tell you my name.”

She gave him a sad smile. “I’ll hold you to that.”

He held her gaze for a moment. “Good,” he said before looking away.

Despite the odd circumstances, Belle found that she was enjoying the chance to get to know Gold a little better. Before she could think too much on that feeling however, she felt one of her arms go numb. She let out a slight gasp, rubbing her arm with her other hand and fighting back the tears that had begun to gather in her eyes.

“You know, this wasn’t really how I imagined dying,” Gold said suddenly. “Surrounded by frozen lasagnas of all things.”

It took Belle a moment to realize that, despite the gallows humor, he was trying to cheer her up. She gave him a watery smile and, had their faces not already been turning blue, she’d have sworn he turned a bit pink.

“I mean, it’s hardly a glamorous way to go,” he continued, and Belle got the impression he was rambling just for something to say. “I’d have much preferred something more exciting. Choking on meatballs for instance.”

Belle found herself giggling despite herself. “Or drowning in wine,” she added.

“Whiskey.”

“Margaritas!”

They laughed together, and Belle took a long look at her companion. She would have never expected that he could be such nice company. It was a shame she hadn’t realized that before – not that he probably would have let her, she realized.  

Just then, the door to the freezer opened. Belle and Gold leapt up from where they sat, their hands instinctively reaching for each other’s without thought.

In the doorway, there stood a short figure holding a pistol. Even in the dim light, Belle could make out who it was.

Well, she thought bitterly, that certainly explained the frozen lasagna.

It seemed Granny was in the mafia, too.

~~\----~~

“Well, now the frozen lasagna makes sense,” Gold said. “I knew Tony would never buy it for _Bella Notte_.”

Granny ignored him, looking at Belle instead. “I feel a bit bad about this Belle, considering you’re friends with my Ruby.”

Belle met her gaze defiantly. “She’s the one who told you, wasn’t she? It wasn’t Astrid, after all.”

Granny let out a snort. “Astrid? She couldn’t tie her shoelaces without help.” Her expression turned serious. “No, Ruby knows the importance of family loyalty. Just like Blue.”

For not the first time, Belle marveled at the crazy family tree of Storybrooke before pushing the thought aside for later.

If there was a later, that is.

Once again, Belle tried to think of a way to keep Granny talking. Perhaps if she stalled long enough, something would –

The sounds of an approaching siren were music to Belle’s ears. Granny’s face crumbled into a look of shock and she turned an accusing glance towards them.

“I guess Astrid is better at dialing 911 than tying her shoelaces,” Belle said smugly.

Granny yelled in frustration, slamming the door shut on them again.

It hardly made a difference. Less than ten minutes later, Belle and Gold were bundled up in blankets, having been found by Deputy Graham shortly after the police arrived.

They watched as the members of Storybrooke’s mafia were led away in handcuffs, Sheriff Swan giving an appreciative nod towards Belle and a slightly more begrudging nod to Gold.

“Well, this was all certainly unexpected,” she said as the cop cars drove away.

“Quite.”

Graham had arranged for them to come by the station later to give their statements, but it was clear he and Emma would have their hands full for the meantime. If she was honest, Belle would have much rather spent the rest of the day thawing out in a hot bath, rather than giving testimony.

As much as she craved adventure, even _she_ had a limit.

 _“_ I've always dreamt of heroics, but... I think it's safer if I stick to my books for a while.”

Gold looked at her hesitantly. “Would you…uh, like to grab some breakfast? I don’t relish heading home to an empty kitchen personally.”

“You know,” Belle said, her voice light and teasing, “if you had bought some of those chocolates when I asked, you would have something there.”

He shrugged. “True. Of course, had I done that, my money would have only ended up in Blue’s money laundering scheme. As it stands, I can now spend that money on taking you out to eat.” His smile flickered momentarily. “Should you wish, of course.”

A chuckle escaped Belle’s mouth before she could help it. When Gold’s eyes lit up in response, she realized she didn’t regret it too much.

“Alright,” she nodded, “but on two conditions.”

“And those are?” he asked smoothly, though the slight twitch of his hands betrayed his nervousness.

“Number one: You tell me your first name.”

Gold nodded, giving her a soft smile. “And the second?”

 “No lasagna.”

They smiled at each other for the space of a couple heart beats before Gold offered her his arm.

“I think that can be arranged.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a Rumbelle Christmas in July gift for annagingil on tumblr! Her prompts were "mafia, whiskey, true love, and chocolate." Hope you enjoyed it!


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